European literature, and he was drawn to a glorious history of the past while
his memory hovered around his hometown.
Two coats on a dusty hanger
Black benches
Cats that are suspicious and black
And the sadness is black
Nothing but memories which are endowed with joy
And the glitter in the eyes
Books deserted by their texts
And the margins feverish with what was,
Preoccupied with what is to happen
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Newspapers and obsessions...
Who is to knock at the door at night
Friends departed
And the poem is worn out
And the beloved is angry
And the garden is deserted
And the time of infatuation is too distanced
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On the way to Quryuba (Cordoba)
Al-Naxiriyyah trots in the mountainous roads
In its dark-yellow charm
It follows us with songs...and in recollections it shares our gypsy nights
If the cup dried up
Al-Nmxiriyyah would become our tavern and...our guide
Who is she who waved to the wrinkles
And suggested a season for singing
And a beginning for tears
Who is she who, with her dexterity, commanded frost
In dusk paths
Bestowed on dark-yellow rays this elegance
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Smoke on the terrace...
A face on the window
Trees of desolation
Extended their branches...
Oh friends...
Join my desolation
Share it with mePOETIC DIALOGIZATION